


All the Times He Saw Him

by RatOuttaHell



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Extremely Generic Farmer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatOuttaHell/pseuds/RatOuttaHell
Summary: “Shane...” Harvey says, half exhausted and half desperate. Shane turns to face him, the circles under his eyes so dark they almost looked bruised, but Harvey can’t come up with the words. “Just… take care of yourself.” Shane’s face is unreadable now – it’s like he doesn’t feel anything at all.“You got it, Doc,” he says flatly, and Harvey wants to tell him that it’s not because he’s a doctor, but he doesn’t. He nods and lets Shane walk through the clinic’s front door.He hates himself a little bit for not finding the strength to stop him.





	All the Times He Saw Him

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey I like this pairing so hey hey I wrote something for it. ALSO I hate the title so if you've got any better ideas, lmk.

The first time Shane comes into Harvey’s clinic, it’s 11AM and he brings in a cloud of beer-stench with him. Harvey isn’t quite sure what to do with this. It’s rare that he gets new patients at all, but to have someone show up before noon already trashed is… well, even Pam waits until the PM hours to start drinking. Usually. But, upon closer inspection, the stranger doesn’t appear all that drunk. His gait is steady when he walks into the clinic, at the very least. Reeking of alcohol but not visibly drunk? Not a great sign. Harvey unfurrows his brow and puts on a smile, hoping that the stranger didn’t notice the look of concern or mistake it for judgment.

“Hello,” he says. “I’m Harvey, Pelican Town’s doctor. Nice to meet you.” He sticks out his hand over the counter, but the stranger doesn’t take it. Harvey withdraws his hand and awkwardly clears his throat. “What’s your name?”

“Shane,” grumbles the stranger. “Just moved here. My aunt told me to come get checked out.”

“Your aunt?” asks Harvey.

“Marnie,” says Shane.

“Oh,” says Harvey, a smile lighting his face. “She’s told me about you!”

“Nothing good, I’m guessing,” says Shane bitterly. Harvey’s smile fades. All he’s heard from Marnie is that Shane comes off a little rough, but he’s going through a difficult time right now and that he loves his goddaughter to death. Besides, Harvey’s never known Marnie to speak anything but kindness into the world.

“Actually--” he starts, but Shane cuts him off.

“Look, can we just get this over with?” he asks. “No offense, but I’m not a big fan of doctors.” Harvey smiles again, despite his shock at Shane’s earlier statement.

“A lot of people aren’t,” he says. “I try not to take it personally.” Shane nods, though he doesn’t look particularly interested.

“Anyway,” says Harvey, feeling rather awkward again. “Step into the exam room and we’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.” That’s the first thing to crack through Shane’s indifference; his already unhealthy skin color pales slightly at the mention of pain.

“I-it’ll be fine,” Harvey stammers, regretting his choice of words. “Let’s head back.”

 

“Aaaaand, all done,” says Harvey, spreading a bandage over the site where he’d taken blood. He’d just run out of neutral-toned bandages, so the one decorating Shane’s arm is covered in cartoon kittens. Shane doesn’t seem to mind, though – the bandage or the fact that Harvey is talking to him the way he would talk to a scared child. He just sits there quietly.

“Sorry about the bandage,” says Harvey, hoping that Shane will at least say something to that.

“Hm?” asks Shane, snapping out of his haze. He looks down at the bandage on his bicep. “Jas will love it.”

“Your goddaughter?” asks Harvey. Shane narrows his eyes at Harvey, who puts on his best nonthreatening smile. “Marnie told me.” Shane only grunts in response, but his muscles relax a little.

“Sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay,” says Harvey. “You’re from the city, right? Word travels a lot faster here.”

“Great,” says Shane, rolling his eyes. Harvey doesn’t think he’s seen anyone Shane’s age roll their eyes in a while. He doesn’t know quite how to respond to that.

“Right,” he says. “So, I should be able to get back to you with your lab results in the next few days. It’ll probably take a little longer than you’re used to because I have to ship them out to a lab in the city. Here’s what I can tell you now. The good news is that you’ve got pretty perfect hearing. The bad news is that your heart rate and blood pressure are high enough to cause some concern. Based on your descriptions of fatigue and lightheadedness, I’m going to have your blood tested for anemia, too. Shane, how often do you drink?”

“Come on, Doc,” says Shane. “You already know the answer is ‘too much.’” Harvey nods. “Are you gonna tell me me to cut back?”

“Well, I’d suggest that before putting you on any kind of medication,” he says.

“Great,” says Shane, standing up from the exam table. “If that’s all, I’ll meet you at the front desk.” That’s usually Harvey’s line, but he’s pretty flummoxed, so he just nods again in agreement. Once Shane shows himself out, Harvey takes a moment to gather himself. Usually even Pam  _ acts  _ sheepish, like she’s going to change, honest, Doc, she’s gonna. But Shane hasn’t even given that much.

He’s going to be something, isn’t he?

 

* * *

 

The next time Harvey  _ really _ sees Shane (not just walking around, but gets a good look at him) it’s Marnie who brings him into the clinic.

“He needs to see you,” she says, her smile thin and weary. Shane stumbles into the clinic with his head in his hand. His hair is slightly wet, which is a little confusing to the good doctor, but it’s not exactly a sign of anything. He does, however, look a bit pale and scraggly. Not his best, though Harvey is pretty sure he hasn’t seen him at his best. He starts to wobble a little, and Harvey rushes to grab his arm.

“Let’s go back to the exam room, okay?” Shane says nothing, but allows himself to be led to the back room.

“I’ll be waiting here when you get out,” says Marnie. Shane merely grunts in response.

“Don’t… you...” Shane mutters.

“What was that?” asks Harvey.

“Don’t need to see you,” says Shane, still mumbling and slurred, but much more audible than before. Somewhat doubtful, Harvey gives a warm smile. He’s good at those. He may not get a ton of patients, but he has a reputation around here for good bedside manner.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened while I take your vitals,” he says, already heading over to his table of medical instruments. He turns around in time to see Shane shrug his shoulders.

“Drank too much,” he says. “Passed out. No big deal.” Harvey would debate that, but he doesn’t know Shane that well and figures he should stay impartial for now. From Harvey’s limited experience with him, Shane doesn’t seem the type to become anything but combative in the face of criticism.

“Anything else?” asks Harvey, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Shane’s bicep.

“Well, the farmer did come in and water me like a damn plant,” says Shane. “Woke me up.”

“Ah,” says Harvey. That would explain the wet hair and clothes. He placed a new plastic sheath over the thermometer and held it out. “Open your mouth.” Shane narrows his eyes but obliges. After a moment, Harvey removes the thermometer and holds up his stethoscope to take Shane’s heart rate.

“As I suspected,” says Harvey. “You have all the symptoms of being drunk.” Shane stares at him as if he’s just said the dumbest thing he could possibly have said. Harvey holds up his hands and smiles.

“A joke,” he says. “But your blood pressure and heart rate are more elevated than usual, and, even though you probably feel rather warm right now, your body temperature is low. Symptoms of, well, being drunk, but they’re taking their toll on your body. How often do you pass out like this?” Shane shrugs again, but looks almost guilty this time. While he isn’t glad that Shane feels guilty, Harvey is relieved to see some sort of emotional response out of him.

“Dunno,” he says. “Once a week? Marnie doesn’t usually come looking.” He sighs. “Look, Doc, I know what you’re gonna say, but I’m fine.”

“And you know that I’m going to say that your drinking is seriously impacting your health,” says Harvey. He grabs a pen and a sticky note and starts to scribble down a name and phone number. “I’m going to recommend a drug and alcohol abuse counselor in Zuzu City.” He pulls off the note and hands it to Shane. “I can’t make you do anything. Marnie can’t make you do anything. You’re an adult. But I hope that you’ll give them a call.” Shane crumples the note in his hand and puts it in the pocket of his shorts.

“Thanks, Doc,” he mumbles.

“Of course,” says Harvey. “Maru will see you at the front desk to talk about payment.” Shane nods and silently walks out of the exam room. Harvey lets out a sigh and slumps into his chair. He has the feeling that the number isn’t going to see the light of day until Marnie fishes it, in soggy pieces, out of the washing machine.

 

* * *

 

 

This time when Harvey encounters Shane, it’s not at his office. Which would be nice, if the setting in which he was encountering Shane weren’t the saloon. And if Shane weren’t obviously even more inebriated than usual. But life just isn’t that kind. Normally what happens when he sees Shane at the saloon is… well, nothing. Usually Shane stands in his usual spot, nursing a beer, showing minimal signs of intoxication at most. Harvey sits at his usual table, sipping at a glass of wine, not acknowledging Shane’s constant presence at the saloon. He doesn’t acknowledge Pam, either, unless she says something to him first. He’s not on the clock, and this is  _ his _ time. Not to say that being a doctor is just a job to him, or that he doesn’t care about his patients, but he has to turn it off  _ sometimes _ .

Tonight, though, something has made a serious dent in Shane’s sobriety. He’s stumbling as he makes his way to and from the bar, and even when he’s standing still he’s swaying slightly. Harvey is half-tempted to go walk over to Gus and politely suggest that he stop serving Shane, but he doesn’t want to overstep his bounds. No, it’s not until he sees the farmer walk over to Shane holding two beers that he decides that something must be done. Harvey doesn’t know much about the farmer – he tends to stay in good physical health, although Harvey does worry a little bit about all the time he spends in the mines – but he assumes that he’s not going to drink both beverages on his own. Sighing, he sets his wine glass on the table and ventures towards Shane and the farmer. Before the farmer can pass the beer to Shane, Harvey lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll take that,” he says, smoothly swiping the second beer from the farmer’s calloused hand. He smiles at the farmer. “Could I talk to Shane for a moment?”

“S-sure,” stammers the farmer, his empty hand still cupped around the now-missing bottle. He flicks his eyes between the farmer and Shane, back and forth, before finally landing on Shane’s face. “See you later… I guess….” Shane nods wordlessly, and the farmer walks off to talk to Marnie at her usual table.

Harvey anticipates some protestation from Shane next. He’s sure now that he has, in fact, overstepped, and he half-expects Shane to snatch the beer right out of his hand. The only thing Harvey can do now is maintain his unexpected confidence (is it the wine?). Shane’s reaction, however, is completely to the contrary: his lips turn up into just a hint of a smile.

“Wanted to see me, huh?” he asks. It’s the first time Harvey’s ever seen him smile. And there’s something about it, too, that just makes all of Harvey’s confidence evaporate. He’s always wished that he could be one of those people who can take anything in stride, but he’s not. He gulps, and tries to mask his discomposure by taking a sip of his beer. The face he makes at the taste probably doesn’t go well with this whole charade. Beer has never been his drink. Shane’s smile grows wider, taunting, but in a gentle way. Harvey can play along with it, or he can…

“You really don’t need another drink,” he says, and the smile drops right off of Shane’s face. His expression now is much closer to what Harvey had expected.

“Don’t I, Doc?” asks Shane.

“Call me Harvey,” says Harvey, because, again, he’s not on the clock anymore, and this is his time. Or it’s supposed to be. Shane makes a face.

“You’re sending me mixed messages here,” he says.

“I’m really not,” says Harvey. “I just… I don’t want you to make any decisions you’ll regret.” Shane snorts.

“My whole  _ life _ is made of decisions I regret,” he says, rather eloquently for someone so drunk, Harvey thinks. “What’s one or two or ten more?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” says Harvey. “Did you call the number I gave you?” Shane shifts uncomfortably.

“Look,” he says. “If you’re just gonna lecture me, I’m gonna leave.” And, true to Harvey’s previous prediction, Shane grabs the beer right out of his hand as he walks unsteadily past, and takes a swig.

“Shane, wait,” says Harvey. Shane stops in his tracks and looks over at him. Wow. Harvey hadn’t actually thought that would work. Faced with unexpected success, Harvey searches frantically for something to say.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he says. Shane rolls his eyes.

“Like what?” he asks.

“Well,” says Harvey, feeling his face start to flush. “What’s one thing you like to do?” Harvey expects a non-answer. Something about how there’s nothing in this world Shane likes. Or, more optimistically, maybe he’ll say that he likes raising chickens. Marnie’s told Harvey that Shane is wonderful with the chickens. Harvey finds it endearing, in a way, to think of Shane taking care of chickens.

“I’unno,” says Shane, shrugging. “Used to like making movies. In college.”

“Oh!” says Harvey. He smiles. “I didn’t know that. Maybe you could show me sometime.” And he can’t really tell, but he thinks that Shane smiles back, at least a little.

“Night, Doc,” he says, takes another swig of his beer, and walks out of the Stardrop Saloon.

 

* * *

 

He stumbles into the clinic at nine o’clock on a Saturday night, hair disheveled, breath strong enough to light on fire. Harvey shouldn’t even have the office doors open at this hour, but he couldn’t sleep and there was paperwork calling and now… now there’s Shane.

“Shane,” he says. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’ wrong,” he says. “Maybe I jus’ wanted to see you.” Harvey doesn’t know what to say to that, so he ignores it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks again.

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted to hang out,” says Shane, shrugging. Is that really what this is? Shane’s idea of a hangout or… or a date?

“N-not when you’re,” stammers Harvey, hoping that drunk Shane won’t notice how red his face is turning. Shane’s expression goes sour; that’s not the answer he wanted. Harvey lets out an awkward cough, mentally fumbling for a way to redeem the situation. “Not like this, I mean.”

“Should’ve known,” says Shane, not angry, but resigned. “You don’t want me around. I don’t want me around, either.”

“Shane, that’s not it!” says Harvey, letting his frustration color his tone. He hardly ever does that – he’s always been kind of meek, kind of unassertive, kind of afraid of letting people know what he’s really feeling. But something about Shane just pushes his buttons. Makes him frustrated enough to show it, confident enough to steal a beer right out of someone’s hand. That doesn’t, however, mean that he knows what to say.

“I want to see you, a-and watch your videos,” he says, “I want to get to know you better.” He takes a breath, knowing that Shane’s not going to like the follow-up. “I want you to be safe, too.”

“You want me to be sober,” spits Shane. “You wanna know me better? Guess what: this is me. Washed up gridball star Shane. Drunk Shane. Pathetic Shane. It’s all I’m gonna be for the rest of my sad, short life.”

“I’m trying to tell you again that it doesn’t have to be that way,” says Harvey, more gently this time. “There are great places out there, people who can help, but you’re the only one who make the choice to go down that path.” But Harvey can tell from the distant look in Shane’s eyes that Shane has tuned him out. Dammit. It’s as if Harvey had thirty seconds to get out what he needed to, to convince Shane, but he just couldn’t find the right words.

“Yeah,” says Shane. “Sure.” He shakes his head. “I… I gotta go. I’m starting to sober up an’ I’m not happy about it.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and makes for the door. Harvey doubts that he’s starting to sober up; he just doesn’t want to hear what Harvey has to say. But he’s getting closer and closer to that door.

“Shane...” Harvey says, half exhausted and half desperate. Shane turns to face him, the circles under his eyes so dark they almost looked bruised, but Harvey can’t come up with the words. “Just… take care of yourself.” Shane’s face is unreadable now – it’s like he doesn’t feel anything at all.

“You got it, Doc,” he says flatly, and Harvey wants to tell him that it’s not because he’s a doctor, but he doesn’t. He nods and lets Shane walk through the clinic’s front door.

He hates himself a little bit for not finding the strength to stop him.

 

* * *

 

Then there’s  _ the _ night. The one where Harvey is actually fast asleep in his bed when he hears pounding on his door, the farmer’s shouts through the second-story window. And there’s Shane, passed out by now in the distressed farmer’s arms. Harvey rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sets to work.

He talks to the farmer afterwards, asks him what happened that night. More than he has in a long time, Harvey feels  _ angry _ . It takes him a second to realize that the anger isn’t directed at Shane, or at the farmer, but at himself. For not being able to do more. He remembers what he said before – that Shane is an adult, that Shane’s responsible for getting the help he needs – but shouldn’t there be more that he could’ve done? As a doctor? As a friend?

He stays by Shane’s side all night, even after the farmer leaves, checking his vitals obsessively and nodding off in his chair when he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore. It’s afternoon by the time Shane wakes up, and Harvey wants to yell at him or, sobbing, embrace him, but he knows that he has to put on a show. Professionalism, or something like that. Instead, he does his best to, well, be a doctor.

“How are you feeling, Shane?” he asks. Shane groans.

“Best I’ve ever felt,” he says, and Harvey smiles slightly in spite of himself. Shane opens his eyes, winces, and then closes them again. “How much did he tell you?”

“As much as he knew,” says Harvey.

“Bastard,” grumbles Shane.

“Don’t be angry at him,” says Harvey. “He’s just–”

“Trying to help, I know,” says Shane. “And I know what you’re gonna say next.”

“Are you ready to listen?” asks Harvey. Shane says nothing, doesn’t nod or shake his head. Harvey sighs and, once again, grabs a pen and a sticky note and scrawls down the name and phone number of his counselor contact. Shane’s eyes are open again, red and bloodshot. “Shane, I’m going to say something, and I want you to take it to heart. People here care about you. Jas, Marnie, the farmer. Me. You matter to people, and it’s time you started mattering to yourself, too.” He reaches down and places the paper in Shane’s hand, pressing down to curl Shane’s finger over the note. It’s almost like they’re holding hands this way.

“Please see someone about this,” says Harvey. “Promise me?” Shane’s eyes are wide with shock.

“I….” He gulps. “I promise.” Harvey smiles, even though he thinks he can feel his lower lip quivering. Thank Yoba.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Harvey doesn’t see Shane for a while. Not more than in passing. Not in the saloon, not drinking at the dock in the forest, not in Harvey’s office. He’s at once relieved – especially about Shane’s absence from the Stardrop – and disappointed. He really, really wants to see Shane again, to ask how he’s doing, if he’s seeing the counselor, if they could maybe even watch some of Shane’s old movies together. But no news is good news, right? He’s almost convinced himself that he’s okay with it when there’s a knock on the clinic door just as he’s closing up for the night. Praying that it’s not a medical emergency, he opens his door to reveal the very man who’s been on his mind for weeks.

“Shane!” he says, and it comes out more excited than it probably should. Indeed, Shane looks more than a little taken aback.

“Hey, Doc,” he says.

“Please,” says Harvey, grinning. “Call me Harvey.” Shane smiles, too, and it releases some of the tension from his body.

“Okay,” he says. “Hey, Harvey.” Is that the first time Shane’s ever called Harvey by his actual name? It must be, because there’s this warmth that starts spreading through his chest when he hears it. But why was Shane here in the first place, calling Harvey by his name?

“Hey,” says Harvey, a small frown forming on his face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah! No, yeah, I’m fine,” assures Shane. “I actually came around to tell you that I’ve been seeing that counselor you recommended. The one in Zuzu City?” Harvey nods, and Shane rubs the back of his neck. “It’s been going really good, actually.”

“I’m glad,” says Harvey. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but you do  _ look _ a lot better.” And it’s true. He still doesn’t look  _ super _ healthy, but the rings under his eyes aren’t as dark, and the color of his skin isn’t quite as corpsey. Shane runs a hand through his hair and smiles almost bashfully.

“Stop,” he says. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“It’s true, though!” says Harvey. “You look healthier. And happier.”

“I am, I guess,” says Shane. “It’s still hard. Really hard. When things get rough, I still wanna reach for a drink. And they get rough a lot, because, you know.” He gestures to himself, and Harvey almost asks what he means before realizing that now is more of a listening time, and nodding. “I’ve been drinking these friggin’ sparkling waters, and that helps some, but it’s just. Really hard.” He laughs. “That’s kinda dumb, right? I’m going through something big right now, and all I can say is ‘it’s hard.’”

“I don’t think it’s dumb,” says Harvey.

“Thanks,” says Shane, smiling this gentle, genuine smile. “Anyway, it’s… rough, and my counselor says it’ll get easier, but that it’ll never be  _ easy _ . I’ll always be an alcoholic.” He shakes his head like he’s trying to get rid of a thought. “That’s not the point right now, though. I just wanted to say that you were right. Thanks, D– er, Harvey.”

“You’re welcome,” says Harvey. “But you did the important parts yourself.” Shane looks like he’s going to protest, but Harvey nips that one in the bud. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about, too.”

“Shoot,” says Shane. Harvey nods, and gulps nervously.

“Are you getting to your appointments alright?” he asks. “It’s not too much of a hassle?”

“It’s a little inconvenient sometimes,” says Shane. “But nothing I can’t deal with. Why?”

“Because I,” says Harvey. “I think you should start seeing a new doctor. And unless a rival practice opens up next door, you’ll have to go into the city to do that.”

“Oh,” says Shane, looking at his shoes. “Yeah, I get it, Doc, I’m, uh–”

“Because I want to get to know you better,” Harvey interrupts. He feels a flush spreading across his face. “And if, um, things go the way I want them to, it would be highly unethical to keep you on as my patient here.” Shane looks back up at Harvey.

“Gotcha,” he says. A grin starts to spread across his face. “I’m just that charming, huh?” Harvey’s face burns flaming red.

“I- I guess so,” he says. Shane bursts out laughing.

“You’re full of it,” he says. “But… you’re cute when you blush.” Harvey imagines Shane as a high school gridball star, saying that to some cheerleader. “Hey, if I say I’m gonna switch doctors right now, would it be unethical to kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” says Harvey. “I, uh, I guess not.”

“Alright,” says Shane. “Second question. How would you feel about that?”

“Overwhelmingly positive,” says Harvey. He’s mentally kicking himself for using those words, specifically, to answer Shane’s question (“overwhelmingly positive”? Really? Like a review?) when Shane leans over and kisses him gently on the lips. Somehow, even with fair warning, Harvey is a little bit shocked. But the shock quickly fades, and he lets himself lean into the kiss. After a few seconds, he feels Shane break off and start laughing again.

“Oh Yoba, I’m so sorry,” says Harvey, the words rushing out and tripping over one another. “I haven’t been kissed in a long time, was it that bad?”

“No, no!” says Shane. “It’s not that. It’s just that your mustache was tickling me.” Harvey reached up and felt his mustache.

“I guess I didn’t have that last time someone kissed me,” he says. “So, it wasn’t bad, then?” Shane shakes his head.

“The best,” he says. “So… do you wanna come back to Marnie’s and have a movie night? Not just the crummy ones I made in college, like. Real movies too.” Taking Shane’s hand in his own, Harvey smiles.

“I’d love that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like shane's story resolved a little too neatly in the game. as someone who sees a lot of hirself in shane, I wanted him to at least TALK ABOUT the fact that things aren't magically all better just because he started seeing someone about his problems. anyway, I might (might MIGHT) come back to this later and expand on it a bit, because I feel like maybe the relationship and ending were too abrupt? I just really, really wanted to get this out there. 
> 
> FUN FACT: I wrote some of this while I was at the emergency room waiting for a rabies vaccine!


End file.
